"Vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule."
- Charles Dickens
I was sitting in my private office at home, poring over paperwork and financials. Thoughts of Frankie once again invaded my mind, stealthily yet powerfully.
What was she doing to me? Why was I yearning for her with such intensity? I had women at my beck and call throughout my life, yet at this moment, I only wanted it her. But why? What made her so special?
I was aware of the answer to these questions but maybe a part of me wished I didn't.
Suddenly, Marqus's knock on the door snapped me out of my trance. "Boss, Theodore is here," he informed me.
I gestured for Marqus to let Theodore in.
My uncle, Theodore, strolled in and positioned himself on the leather seat across from my desk.
"You haven't dropped by in quite a while," I greeted him with a smile. "What brings you here?"
I was glad that he seemed to have regained his strength after the fiasco at the gala, as well as the shocking arrest of his son, Daniel.
"Just needed an excuse to get out of the house and decided to visit my favourite nephew at home," he responded, examining the aesthetics of my office. His appreciation for my classic decor had never gone unnoticed. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"You're never an interruption, Theo," I reassured him as I stood and walked to my old-school liquor cabinet in the corner of the office. Picking up a bottle of top-shelf scotch, I prepared two drinks. "On the rocks?"
"You know me better than anyone, boy," he said with a chuckle.
As he relished in the luxury of the drink, his gaze fixed on me over his glass. I recognized the look immediately. This wasn't just a casual visit. There was something he needed to share. The intensity of his stare suggested I was unlikely to appreciate the revelation.
His voice low, he began, "My brother, your father, was very close to Giuseppe Capano." Pausing briefly, he gave a small, solemn nod, "May they both rest in peace."
"May they rest in peace," I echoed, toasting to their memory before taking a long sip.
"Among many shared dreams," he resumed his explanation, "They had always dreamt of combining their businesses, creating a strong empire and strengthening their families, specifically through a family union."
Impatience surged, replacing my anticipation with mild dread. "What's your point, Theo?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
After a generous gulp of his drink, Theodore placed his glass down. "To put it bluntly, your father and Giuseppe had plans for you to wed Allegra, Giuseppe's daughter." The bombshell was finally dropped.
Maintaining my composure, I finished my drink before meeting my uncle's gaze once again. "Surely you can't be serious," I said through a cool smile.
"But I am," Theodore affirmed. "Your father made a promise to Giuseppe, and it's time for us to fulfill it."
My anger slowly began to boil as I replied calmly, "They're both dead, uncle. There's no longer a reason to honor this."
"Hector, please listen to me..." he started, but I cut him off.
"Are you hearing yourself? This is absurd. Do we arrange marriages now?" I retorted.
"I understand that Allegra is a few years older than you, but-" he began, but I interjected.
"Fuck being older! Allegra is my friend, nothing more! If you're set on arranging a marriage, then look to your son, Daniel! Leave me out of it!"
"Daniel is too young for her, and he isn't going to take over the business when I retire!" Theodore argued. "When Giuseppe died, Allegra had to take over her family's business, but she lost the Diego Rossi family business to Angelo De Laurentiis. This wouldn't have occurred if you two had gotten married. This is an opportunity for us to merge our families and gain more power than we could have ever imagined!"
"No, uncle. My decision is final! You can't tell me who I'll marry and sleep next to for the rest of my life," I growled.
"Why do you have to be so stubborn? Who will you marry instead? Are you going to live a picture-perfect life behind a white picket fence? You tried that already, but how did it turn out?" he provoked.
"Don't.. don't go there," I warned, my voice now frigid.
"I'm sorry, son, but I have to say it! You married an average person and tried to escape this life, but forgot that the only way out is through a coffin!" His words pierced my heart like daggers.
"Uncle, I'm asking you to leave," I spoke calmly, signaling an end to the discussion.
"Hector, please..." he started again, but I cut him off for the third time.
"Fucking leave, Theo!" I growled, finally unleashing my rage.
"Frankie, time to get up!" Noah nudged me awake softly.
Noah was seated beside me, his magnificent ice blue eyes full of affection gazing down at me. The tender touch of his hand as he smoothed my hair sent waves of comfort washing over me. I could feel a glow of warmth spreading through me.
"Don't tell me you forgot, sleepyhead. We agreed on blueberry pancakes for today's breakfast," he reminded me, a hint of disappointment laced in his voice at my late wake-up.
A grateful smile appeared on my face as I gazed at him. "We are still on for it, love." I promised him, my hand resting against his cheek. "Ready to get the morning started?"
A brilliant smile dawned on Noah's face as he clapped his hands together enthusiastically. It was hard not to adore such infectious positivity.
Memories of the previous night began to flash into my mind. I had indulged in alcohol more than necessary and lost control over my actions. The guilt of my behavior was eating me up inside. The thought of Jay taking away Noah from me was petrifying. Despite the sting his words carried, there was a terrible truth in them. There was no defending my behavior, I had foolishly risked Noah witnessing my pitiful condition. Despite trying to cast aside the lingering shame, it clung on stubbornly.
"Well then, let's get started." I masked my guilt with a cheerful tone. "You'll handle the batter, while I prepare the pan."
Noah enthusiastically complied, grabbing a mixing bowl from the kitchen counter. He tossed in the dry ingredients of flour, sugar, baking powder and salt, and then added the eggs and milk.
"This is a blast!" he exclaimed with joy, vigorously mixing the batter.
His eagerness brought a genuine smile to my face.
Once everything was set up properly, we started dropping the pancake mix onto the warm pan. We took turns flipping them until both sides cooked perfectly golden brown. As we got to the decorating part, Noah took the lead, drizzling generous quantities of maple syrup over the pancakes and topping them with fresh blueberries. Their appearance alone was mouthwatering.
"Voila! Our masterpiece," I declared with a sense of achievement.
A bright smile appeared on Noah's face from the other side of the table where we were relishing our shared breakfast. "These pancakes are so good, Frankie!"
"Couldn't have done it without your help!" I reciprocated his grin.
Suddenly, the loud knocking on the door followed by footsteps approaching the kitchen broke our moment.
"I wonder who that could be," Noah asked, visibly confused as to who might be calling on us so early in the morning.
Before I could venture a guess, the door swung open to reveal Hector.
Even in his attire, he was intimidating. Black was his color, perhaps it signified his merciless soul, devoid of warmth or empathy. He wore a suit that could very well belong in an executive meeting. Impeccable and perfectly tailored to his strong, lean body, making his authoritative aura all the more potent.
"Good morning," he greeted. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"No, not at all," I answered quickly, doing my best to mask the nervousness in my voice.
Hector's hint of a smile stirred up my unease, reviving memories of the previous night. These images of him wouldn't stop invading my consciousness, unsettling me like unwelcome houseguests. Their electrifying kiss echoed within the silent corridors of my mind, the feeling of his breath against my lips refused to let me be.
I mentally cursed myself for going down that road with him.
"Hector!" Noah called out joyfully, his pure, boyish smile lighting up the room. "I'm glad you're here!"
"Thanks, buddy!" Hector responded, matching Noah's wide grin. "How are you holding up?"
"Couldn't be better!" Noah answered with an upbeat tone. "Come on in, join us, please."
Hector's gaze quickly darted to me, as if silently asking for my agreement.
"By all means," I encouraged, motioning for him to settle next to Noah.
He gracefully took his seat at our morning meal table, and Noah was quick to hand him a plate of pancakes. "Give these a try, I guarantee you'll love them!" Noah promised.
Taking a hearty bite of the pancakes, Hector's face revealed pure delight. "Wow, these are really good! Fluffy and delicious. Who made them?" he asked.
"Frankie did! Frankie always whips them up for me!" Noah proudly declared.
I took in the heartening sight of their interaction. Hector had swiftly earned Noah's trust and affection; a rare feat, to say the least. It was truly an adorable scene.
Feeling the call of a refreshing shower, I craved the reviving effects of hot water to truly awaken me.
The moment I stepped into the living room, my gaze was drawn to Hector, comfortably settled on the plush leather couch.
Surprised, I stuttered a moment, swiftly regained my wits, forced my features into an unreadable mask, and seated myself next to him.
"About last night..." he started, only to be interrupted by me.
"What about it? I retorted, tone hard.
"I didn't mean to take advantage..." he tried to explain but I interrupted him again.
"You didn't," I interjected matter-of-factly, "Nothing happened last night."
"Frankie," he addressed me softly, his voice almost a whisper.
"Hector, nothing happened last night, nor will it ever," I stated forcefully, emphasizing each word to drive my point home.
Our eyes locked, each of us wordlessly conveying our thoughts. He shifted nearer, the warmth of his breath against my face. His hand came up to my face, softly caressing my cheek, dangerously reducing the distance between us. The heightened pace of my heart mirrored the deep passion that lurked in his dark grey eyes.
"Something tells me you're not being completely honest right now. Deep down, you desire this as much as I do," he murmured in a husky, low voice, sending shivers of desire coursing through me.
I struggled to find the strength to respond, to burst his bubble, to tell him how wrong he was. I just couldn't. His eyes pierced into my soul, making it difficult to lie under their unwavering gaze. What was he doing to me? Why was I yearning for him so intensely?
His thumb moved slowly, brushing against my lips as he stared at them with a fierce desire burning in his eyes. I could hear his ragged breaths, realizing the effect I had on him, and a sense of satisfaction washed over me.
This man, this captivating force, wanted me with every fiber of his being, and I could see it, feel it. It was undeniable. But admitting it to myself was a challenge.
Hector leaned in closer, and it felt as if I was being irresistibly pulled towards him. I longed for the sensation of his lips on mine once again, and deep down, I would be lying to myself if I blamed last night's kiss solely on the alcohol I had consumed.
But just as I was about to surrender, something clicked in my mind, reminding me of the reasons why I should stay away from him. And so, I pulled back.
"Okay, if you insist," he uttered, pulling away from me. "Did you hear anything about Conor?"
"No, nothing yet," I replied. "And I haven't been able to get through to Ronan either. Any news from your side?"
"Not much to say," he responded with caution. "But there's some news about the meeting."
"What happened?" I questioned, anxiety accelerating my heartbeat.
He delayed for a bit, his eyes scouring mine before responding, "Sergei is dead, Frankie."
His words hit me like a punch; I couldn't understand what he was saying. "Was it Conor?"
His head inclined in agreement, "Yes."
Nervously, I started to pace back and forth, my mind attempting to make sense of the sudden revelation. "Is Conor alright? Was he harmed?" I questioned, a sense of dread clouding my voice.
"He's safe," he reassured me. "Big Solly took care of the situation."
A rush of relief replaced my initial anxiety as I registered that papà was safe. "Thank you for sharing that. It means a lot."
He acknowledged with a nod, his facial expression unreadable. "Take care." Then he vanished from sight.
With him gone, my thoughts tumbled. I found myself at a loss for words, uncertain about my feelings towards him. The truth was, I couldn't risk falling for him, considering he was the nephew of my enemy. My guard had to remain up, and I had to maintain control over my emotions.
I approached Frankie's doorstep with her words echoing in my mind, although slightly altered. The kiss we shared last night had fulfilled my every desire, yet it left me feeling as though I had crossed an unspoken boundary. For one, I felt I had abused Conor's trust to get closer to her, sparking a sense of betrayal within me. Secondly, it felt as if I had cheated on Emma, leaving me sleepless, haunted by the imagined sorrow and disappointment on her face.
Emma.. My Emma.. The one I loved more than life itself. She wasn't just my wife, she was my soulmate. For two glorious years, we were blissfully happy together. Her beauty took my breath away and her pure heart shone like a guiding light.
The memory of her telling me we were having a baby ignited an incomparable warmth in my heart. I was over the moon with joy, ecstatic at the thought of starting a family with her. But fate had other plans. They meant to take me out with a car bomb, but it was Emma and our unborn child who paid the ultimate price.
It had been five agonizing years, but the pain was still as raw as the day I lost them. Then Frankie came into my life, like a hurricane, bewitching me and making me feel all the things I thought were lost forever.
I believed it was in our best interest to resist surrendering to the impulsive passions that raged within us. Despite how difficult it seemed, it was the right choice.
"Yo! What ya doin' here?" Zane inquired, striding into the office.
I shot him an irate glare and replied tersely, "What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Wasting time, is what it looks like!" He countered smugly. "C'mon, man! Goat's waitin' for us!"
"Where at?" I cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Over at The Lounge," he shot back. "Get off your duff and let's blow this joint."
"Aw hell, let's book it then," I grumbled, standing up to follow him out the door.
It was a bit past 9pm and I had been trying to stay busy, not wanting to let my mind wander towards Frankie. However, an evening with the boys seemed like an ideal way to keep my thoughts at bay.
The Lounge was one of Chicago's most opulent nightclubs, my pride and joy.
My goal had always been to legitimize the operations of the syndicate through legal fronts.
Over the years, The Lounge served as the grand facade of our business, effectively concealing our illicit affairs from prying eyes, law enforcement, and rival families. The journey had been a marathon rather than a sprint, a constant balance of pleasure and pressure.
Nonetheless, so far, it was a smooth sailing affair without a single breadcrumb left behind for the hungry hounds of justice to feed on.
On my way to the club, I had made a vow to myself to relax and have fun, whatever the fuck happens.